


From a Position of Strength

by ThirtySixSaveFiles



Series: Taking What Comes [10]
Category: Borderlands (Video Games), Tales from the Borderlands - Fandom
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, M/M, Threats And Intimidation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-17
Updated: 2017-04-17
Packaged: 2018-10-20 08:28:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10658781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThirtySixSaveFiles/pseuds/ThirtySixSaveFiles
Summary: You know what they say about negotiations.





	From a Position of Strength

**Author's Note:**

> This one was definitely [tonberryqueen's](http://tonberryqueen.tumblr.com) fault, as they suggested the premise and I went...oh shit. Sorry it took so long to finally see daylight.
> 
> If you've been following these along on tumblr, please note the order this piece has in the series - this jumps ahead in time a little bit, and takes place not long after Not Today (Not Ever).

Jack pours himself a drink as the study door shuts behind Torgue and turns to face the remaining city bosses.

“Scotch?” he offers, gesturing with his glass. “It’s not poisoned,” he adds, taking a sip to demonstrate. It’s not that he hadn’t thought about it - but that’s not the point of tonight, and with Hyperion in the midst of absorbing Dahl, Jack’s not ready to take on the rest of the city.

Not yet, anyway.

Events like tonight are all a part of doing business: sometimes you get your point across by torching the headquarters of a rival gang, sometimes you do it by hosting a dinner party. Jack had made sure that Rhys had been seated at his right hand, visibly alive and well, as Jack and the others had made polite small talk over appetizers and entree and dessert. Every menu item that could be had been smoked, charred, or flambéed; not particularly subtle, but then it hadn’t been meant to be.

Now, drinks distributed and guests settled in chairs, Jack leans against the front of his desk. He’s deliberately left Rhys downstairs for this part. It’s not that he cares if Rhys hears it - but some of the other bosses have... _ old-fashioned _ notions about omegas and business. So Rhys stays downstairs.

“I’m sure you’ve heard about Dahl by now,” Jack says without preamble, and the room grows still. “And I’m sure you remember Jakobs. So in case I wasn’t clear the first two times, let me spell it out for you - the kid is  _ off limits _ .” Tediore shifts uncomfortably in his seat, and Moxxi sips from her whiskey, but the rest of the room is deathly silent.

“And I know that traditionally, in the wake of the downfall of one our brethren, we would divide up Dahl territory in some fashion. So I am also here to tell you, sincerely and in person, that that is not going to happen.” There’s some grumbling at that, but Jack well and truly does not give a shit. “What Hyperion touches it keeps, and if I see incursions into our territory -  _ any _ of it - I will take it  _ extremely _ personally.”

Vladof clears his throat. “Is just one omega,” he rumbles. “Not even bonded. Surely is not worth all this -” he waves a hand, searching for the word, “ - all this  _ fuss _ ,” he concludes.

Jack’s fingers tighten, and he puts his tumbler down carefully on the desk to keep from throwing it at Vladof’s stupid fat face. “Perhaps I didn’t make myself clear,” he says mildly. Out of the corner of his eye he sees Moxxi lean back - she could always read him better than the others. “He is  _ my _ fucking business and I will defend what is mine swiftly and with prejudice.” Jack bares his teeth. “If that’s still too hard for you, you can ask Jakobs or Dahl to explain, but you’ll need a goddamn medium to do it.”

Tediore and Vladof exchange glances, and Vladof settles back in his seat, clearly unhappy but unwilling to push at this moment. That’s fine - Jack doesn’t need them to be happy. He needs them to fucking  _ back off _ . He’s put down Jakobs, and now Dahl for touching Rhys. He’ll mow through the rest of them if he has to.

He’ll burn down this fucking  _ city _ if he has to.

Moxxi clears her throat, drawing all eyes to her. She lifts her glass and smiles crookedly, eyes fixed on Jack’s.

“A toast,” she says. “To Hyperion’s day in the sun.” There’s more grumbling, but one by one the other bosses follow suit and an accord, temporary as it might be, is reached. 

Jack grins to himself and nods to Moxxi as the others prepare to leave. Her meaning isn’t lost on him -  _ enjoy this while you can _ \- but he’ll take whatever comes tomorrow in exchange for her support on this today. If Moxxi thinks she can take him, alone or with help, she’s welcome to try. He’ll be ready.

“Oh, and Mox - “ As the others file out the door she turns and raises one perfectly manicured eyebrow. Jack’s smile this time is marginally more friendly, one equal to another. “You can take your little bribe with you.”

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean, sugar,” but she smiles back, and as she turns away she shrugs as if to say  _ worth a shot _ .

She had introduced the omega with her as Osric. Young, fresh-faced, and pretty, he’d hung off of Moxxi’s arm the whole evening, silent except when spoken to, although he hadn’t hesitated to bat his thick eyelashes at Jack at every opportunity. Tall, leggy, brunette - the kid looks an  _ awful _ lot like Rhys, if Rhys were a soft omega kept in pampered luxury. As bribes go it’s pretty brazen, but not very effective; Jack’s not stupid enough to let an unknown quantity like that into his bed. He knows better than anyone what kind of poisoned claws omegas can have, and while he doubts Moxxi’s bait shares anything with Rhys except an endotype, Jack’s not interested.

Jack doubts there’s another omega in the world half as interesting as Rhys, in bed or out of it.

As if thinking about him has summoned him, the soft murmur of Rhys’ voice drifts in the open window overlooking the garden behind the house. Intrigued, Jack picks up his glass and moves closer; it’s unlike Rhys to strike up conversation with someone he doesn’t know, so it’s with some surprise that Jack recognizes Osric’s voice raised in response.

“So what’s he like, Handsome Jack?” Rhys makes a little questioning noise, and Osric clarifies. “Does he like it when you’re loud? Is he a biter? He seems like a biter.” Osric sighs. “That’s always a pain - it takes  _ days _ for the bruises to fade.”

Jack can practically smell Rhys’ confusion through the open window, and he stops before his shadow can block the light streaming out into the garden. He sips his scotch, letting the alcohol burn down his throat as he waits to see how Rhys will take that.

Osric seems to take Rhys’ silence for shyness, because he continues cajolingly. “Oh come on - he must be keeping you around for  _ some  _ reason. I just want to know what my odds are.”

“Your odds,” Rhys says slowly.

“Of getting fucked by Handsome Jack,” Osric says, impatience starting to bleed through. “What did you think I was here for?” He laughs, and there’s a derisive edge to it that raises the hackles on Jack’s spine. “What else are  _ you _ here for?”

“Ah,” Rhys says, as if the fog has suddenly cleared. “You think you have a chance with him.”

“I  _ know _ I do.” Osric’s initial friendliness is falling away fast. “You won’t be the favorite forever.”

“Hm. Maybe not.” Rhys sounds entirely too composed and Jack wonders what his face looks like right now. There’s a soft  _ clink _ , presumably as Rhys sets down his glass. “But I  _ do _ know that you won’t be.”

“Please.” Osric snorts. “You think you have a say in what Handsome Jack does?”

“Oh no,” Rhys says thoughtfully. “That’s not what I’m saying at all. Handsome Jack can do as he likes.” Osric starts a sneering reply, but is cut off abruptly by a faint metallic  _ snick _ . 

Rhys has spent countless hours sitting in the window seat of Jack’s study, practicing flipping the blade Jack had given him open and closed. Jack would know that sound blindfolded. He doesn’t want to give himself away, but he suddenly  _ does _ need to see what’s happening - if nothing else, to see what kind of apology he’s going to have to make tomorrow.

Jack could stop this. A death under his roof, under his offer of hospitality - Moxxi couldn’t ignore that. But even the thought of intracity warfare is suddenly secondary to the need to see what Rhys is going to do next. Moving slowly, he leans over and turns off the desk lamp, then steps toward the window until he can look down on Rhys and Osric’s heads. Rhys looks almost cheerful, feet shifting apart and knife hand steady, just the way Jack had taught him.

“Handsome Jack can do as he likes,” Rhys reiterates, pleasant as the evening breeze as the blood drains from Osric’s face. “You don’t have that luxury.”

“Here’s how this is going to go,” Rhys says, stepping close until he’s almost nose to nose with the other omega. Osric’s eyes are wide, and they keep flicking down to the knife in Rhys’ hand. “You’re going to go back inside,” Rhys continues, “and you’re going to tell Ms. Moxxi that you’re not feeling well and you need to go home. You’re going to leave this house in one piece and breathing, and for that you are going to count yourself lucky, because if I  _ ever _ see you so much as look at Jack again -” Rhys lays the knife gently against Osric’s cheek, the tip splitting those lush eyelashes. Osric looks too terrified to even blink, and Jack smiles into his glass.

“The world won’t miss you if you turn up bloodless in an alley, Osric,” Rhys says gently as he drags the knife down the trembling omega’s cheek. Rhys flicks his wrist and Osric gasps, stumbling back and hands flying to his face. They come away red, and as he stares down at his fingertips Jack can see blood welling from the clean slice across Osric’s cheekbone. Rhys wipes the blade on Osric’s shirt, then steps back, flipping the knife closed and secreting it away again.

“The world will not miss you, and it will not mourn you.” Rhys sounds matter-of-fact, as if he’s describing the weather. “Are we clear?”

Osric stares at Rhys, jumping when the door to the garden swings openand spills light over the two young men. Rhys calmly picks up his drink, and turns back toward the open doorway.

“Osric? Osric, it’s time to -” Moxxi stops when she sees the blood dripping down her omega’s face. “Honey, what happened to you?”

“He ran into something,” Rhys says, serene as the moonlight, and Jack grins in the dark. It’s an obvious lie, but Moxxi doesn’t call him on it. “But he knows what to do about it, don’t you Osric?” He turns to look at the other omega, and Jack can’t see Rhys’ face very well from here but he can see Osric’s; the other omega swallows once, throat working, before looking back at Moxxi.

“I don’t feel well,” he says woodenly. “I need to go home.”

Moxxi is silent for a long, heavy moment, and then she says, “Well, that’s where we’re heading, sugar, so let’s go.” Osric scurries toward her, carefully stepping around Rhys, who watches with an air of faint amusement. Moxxi puts her arm around Osric’s shoulders, throwing a glance back at Rhys as she herds her omega back inside. Rhys just raises his eyebrows at her, and she turns away without further comment. When she shuts the door behind her the light streaming into the garden disappears, leaving Rhys lit by only stars and muted moonlight; Rhys lifts his face to the sky and Jack thinks he sees the glimmer of teeth.

_ Swiftly and with prejudice _ . The clouds shift and moonlight streams down, highlighting the tattoo on Rhys’ neck. Jack has the shape of it memorized; he’s traced it with fingers and tongue and teeth while Rhys shivered underneath him.

He  _ is _ just one omega. Not even bonded, although coming home with that tattoo had certainly been a ballsy move.

Rhys heads back inside and Jack sips his scotch, a comfortable warmth spreading through his veins as he thinks about the half-finished sketches in the desk drawer behind him. He knows a good tattooist, although it’s been a while since he’s seen her.

Maybe it’s time to pay her a visit again.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me at [ThirtySixSaveFiles](http://thirtysixsavefiles.tumblr.com) on Tumblr!


End file.
